


Extinguish

by neoclassicalwords



Category: Be More Chill - Iconis/Tracz
Genre: Alternate Universe - Robots & Androids, Brooke is the Captain, Chloe is AUTO, Christine's kinda like the bug but she's a robot, F/F, F/M, Human-Robot Relationships, Jeremy's WALL-E, M/M, More tags to be added, On Hiatus, Robots, SQUIP is EVE, WALL-E AU, she likes twinkies but she's like an encyclopedia
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-05-16
Updated: 2019-05-21
Packaged: 2020-03-06 13:17:53
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 2,336
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18851848
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/neoclassicalwords/pseuds/neoclassicalwords
Summary: Jeremy has lived on this desolate planet his whole life.Well, he's pretty sure this desolate planet is called “Earth” and that he's not really alive, per se, but the details hardly matter.





	1. Arrival

**Author's Note:**

> Do not repost on another site.
> 
> On hiatus. I might return to this fic eventually, but with my motivation, I doubt it.

Jeremy has lived on this desolate planet his whole life.

Well, he's pretty sure this desolate planet is called “Earth” and that he's not really alive, per se, but the details hardly matter.

Every day is the same. He's certain they're days because each morning, he goes out and recharges in the sun. He thinks humans might have called it tanning if he had skin, but he's never met a human. 

He's only met one other robot that functions. She's a CHR-15 model, but she's told Jeremy time and time to call her Christine, because, “I don't call you J3R, do I?”

She's right, at least. Calling him J3R would be weird. BNL said that the 3 was for "aesthetics", whatever those are. He was a Joyful Eclectic Robot, whose sole purpose were to clean the Earth's surface of debris and smile while doing it. 

Maybe that's why he's always so curious. Maybe that's why he's interested in Earth's so-called garbage. Maybe that's why Christine calls him, “a hoarder,” in human terms. So, he's got a hoard. He loves it very much. Plus, not like anyone else is using it.

Not like there's anyone on Earth besides them.

The humans left years ago, hundreds maybe. He lost count after 55. And all the other J3Rs? Well, he's almost sad to admit he's had to scoop up his share of broken, twisted, robotic bodies, destroyed under the strain of maintaining a dirty planet.

The same each day.

Forever.

Luckily, he has Christine to make things easier and things to occupy his day.

He watches this thing called a TV with Christine, usually every two nights, watching the same thing again and again.

He can't help it. He's hooked.

It's something called a “musical”, according to Christine. She knows everything. She was programmed to, as a Cognitive History Robot, the fifteenth generation of all-knowing. 

He's stuck on one scene, where the two humans touch. They smile. He wants to be touched. Maybe he'll smile.

Maybe. Always with the maybes.

Except until there aren't any.

Because when red lights come from the sky, when he rushes to get away from the bright bright light, the fire, the dust, something arrives.

Something has landed on the Earth's surface.

He watches from afar as something is pulled from the vessel, something sleek and shiny. It is activated. He is afraid.

Stepping back, he looks for somewhere to hide. Luckily, he finds some rocks and drops to his knees, rusty oculars struggling to comprehend the sight.

Whatever it is bursts to life. Whatever it is soars around. Whatever it is makes Jeremy want to know more.

So, he hides as the thing explores the Earth, looking for… something. He's not sure what, but it's doing an awful lot of scanning.

But Jeremy takes a wrong step. He knocks into something on the ground. The figure whirls around and Jeremy is struck how it (they?) looks. Chiseled, defined lines, masculine features… 

Sharp and graceful at once. 

But their arm morphs. But they glare at him. But they cock a gun. Jeremy screams. The gun goes off.


	2. O B S O L E T E

Scanning…  
Scanning…

TARGET INACCESSIBLE.  
NO PLANT LIFE FOUND.  
NO ORGANIC LIFE FOUND.

NEXT AREA: BNL Avenue, City of ???

Thrusters: ACTIVE  
Cooldown: ACTIVE

Scanning…  
Scanning…

TARGET INACCESSIBLE.  
NO PLANT LIFE FOUND.  
NO ORGANIC LIFE FOUND.

NEXT AREA: Abandoned Lot #274, City of ???

Conditions: Decrepit.  
Nearby Landmarks: Demolished.  
Expectations: Low.

Scanning…  
Scanning…  
Scan-

BLASTER ENABLED.  
AMMO LOADED.  
AMMO DISPERSED.  
TARGET DESTROYED…

TARGET ACTIVE.  
TARGET INORGANIC.  
UNKNOWN TECHNOLOGY.  
THREAT?

Scanning…

MODEL J3R, MAKE 19  
AGED 190 YRS.

CONCLUSION:

O B S O L E T E.  
NOT A THREAT.

TARGET IS MAKING ODD FACIAL EXPRESSIONS.  
HAS UNUSUAL AFFECT.  
DO EARTH MACHINES MARK THEIR TERRITORY LIKE FOUL HUMANS?

CONCLUSION: AS INORGANICS, IT IS NOT POSSIBLE, BUT THEY DO NOT SMELL PLEASANT.

[STAY ON TRACK. REMEMBER THE MISSION.]

…

NEXT AREA: Abandoned BNL Store #99, City of ???  
Smell: Foul.  
Foodstuffs: Expired.  
Products: Poorly Made.

Scanning…  
Scanning…

TARGET INACCESSIBLE.  
NO PLANT LIFE FOUND.  
NO ORGANIC LIFE FOUND.

JER 19 IS STILL PRESENT.  
WHY DOES THIS RUSTED METAL PERSIST IN BOTHERING ME?  
I HAVE A JOB TO DO.  
A PURPOSE.  
WE A L L HAVE PURPOSES.

>>Hello?

IT SPEAKS.  
DEAR MAKER.

PROTOCOL:  
>Ignore  
Or  
>Address.

You have selected IGNORE.

Thrusters: ACTIVE

…

WHY DOES IT INSIST ON FOLLOWING ME?  
WHY DOES IT INSIST ON SHOWING ME AROUND?  
WHY DOES IT INSIST ON SHOWING ME CENTURIES OLD HELLO, DOLLY CLIPS?

THIS OBSOLETE MODEL IS…  
STRANGE.  
HIS COMPANION IS MORE TOLERABLE.  
MORE SUSPICIOUS.  
THAT'S HOW THINGS S H O U L D BE.

BUT HE-  
IT?  
DOES NOT COMPUTE.

Error. Check your EXPLORATION ROVER INVESTIGATOR COMPUTER manual for troubleshooting on rebooting the system. For more help, visit bnl.compute.

Reboot successful.

WHY IS IT SHOWING ME THESE USELESS HUMAN THINGS?  
WHY DOES HE SHOW ME A-

…

>>It's green. Christine calls it a plant.  
>>This is what you're looking for, right?

AND YET…  
HE SEEMS SO HOPEFUL…

Scanning…

TARGET FOUND:  
Species Traceophyta  
Status: ACTIVE

Obtaining PLANT…  
PLANT successfully obtained.

Activating stasis…

J 3 R…

>>Eric? ERIC? ER-

Auditory receptors: INACTIVE

Stasis complete.

Have a nice day! If you have any questions about stasis, check the manual or visit bnl.compute!


	3. He Says Nothing

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks to kadabralin and DeoGenoCider for beta'ing this chapter! I appreciate it so much!

Jeremy shakes Eric. He shakes Eric. He shakes Eric.

He shakes, he shakes, he shakes.

He will not wake up. Is he asleep? Can robots sleep? Maybe he's in sleep mode?

Jeremy shakes him again. Nothing.

“I guess you don't like plants. Weird, since you were looking for one.”

He spots a flower on the ground. He picks it up.

Studying.

From what he gathers, it's fake. Eric had been scanning there earlier, so that's likely a valid guess.

He holds it up to him. Smiling.

Eric's face is pale. His hair is falling in his pallid face, eyes closed peacefully. He almost does look asleep.

Or dead.

Jeremy waves a hand in front of his face, dropping the artificial bloom.

Maybe both.

Jeremy tries to push him along to the crawler, but he's heavy. Limp limbed.

Christine would call it dead weight.

Eric is corpselike.

What did he say again? Something about stasis or… something.

Jeremy is not sure. Jeremy is never sure.

Christine is sure. He should ask Christine. He will ask Christine.

But how will he get him there?

He notices a string of lights on the ground. He picks them up.

Christine has called them, “a relic from an ancient Earth holiday.” They're colorful. They're shiny. They're just the thing he needs.

Winding it around Eric like a rope, he tugs him along. It holds.

He's tethered.

He eventually brings him before Christine.

She strokes her chin.

Contemplating.

“That looks like stasis, alright. And you said this happened after he got that plant?”

“He pulled it in with a glowy thing.”

“Like a mini tractor beam?”

“Sure…?”

“Look. Jeremy. I don't know what to do.”

“But you know everything.”

“Nothing new. I'm stuck with all this old knowledge. He's nothing like I've seen before.”

Nothing like she's seen before.

Jeremy can “relate”.

Shiny metal. Molten eyes.

Jeremy wants.

Wants? What's wants?

His processors whir.

He has no solid answer. All he knows about wants are what he's seen on the TV. What he's seen in a touch. What he's seen in a kiss.

Is that wants? Is that what he should do?

It is.

So Jeremy takes him out to a nice abandoned building, leading him along by the lights. He shows him the sights.

The sky grows dark. This means water will fall and drench the ground. 

This means Eric will rust.

He pulls something from his compartment. He opens it, holding it over Eric's head.

Protection.

Metal and fabric and hope, but it keeps Eric safe.

But then currents and currents and currents-

Is this pure want?

No. Electricity.

He's still crackling by the end of it. Systems dizzied.

He takes Eric home at the end. Thanks him.

Eric does not reply.

He watches movies with Eric. Quotes them.

Eric does not reply.

He warns Eric about the return of the fire.

Eric does not reply.

He screams for him when he is snatched, for when he is stowed in the vessel.

Eric does not reply.

He climbs the vessel, holding onto metallic bars, Christine shouting at him.

He does not hear. Can not hear.

And still, even without seeing him, he knows Eric will not reply. 

He holds on with all his strength. With everything he has.

He cannot lose him.

Even as heat burns at him. Even as pressure tugs unforgivingly at his casings. Even as he hurries to get Christine into his compartment to keep her from melting or coming apart or something else bad.

Even as the intensity drops and the Earth, his home, disappears from his vision, as constellations and planets and other things appear in his sightline. Surround him with their presence.

He almost forgets until he remembers, then starts up what Christine tells him is a “ladder” to a part of the vessel made of different metal.

It gives. He enters.

…

The vessel docks. Hair windblown, the two seek further shelter inside the larger vessel.

“Like a big fish eaten by a bigger fish,” Christine says.

Jeremy does not know what to say.

Jeremy needs to find Eric.

What he finds is rows of him. Not him, but not not him, either.

Then he notices.

The symbol. The green.

Him. He wants.

But just as he is retrieved, he is stolen away again, strapped to a hovering cart and sped away.

“We're back to square one,” Christine says.

But Jeremy says nothing.


	4. Alive

It was a day like many others. Almost all the others, Brooke mused, as she got out of bed with a crack of her back to get ready.

She lived on the ship's bridge. Her life as captain was confined to the ship's bridge. Whenever she needed to eat or drink, the appropriate nourishment was sent up through a modernized dumbwaiter system.

She brushed her teeth. She combed her hair. She made her usual morning announcement of the time and temperature. She greeted her autopilot system, who gave an automated reply back.

Even if she wasn't a real person, she kept Brooke from going crazy from the same thing every single morning, afternoon, and night. Brooke was... Well, Brooke was attached. It felt like her autopilot was her only friend at times, because that was basically true.

But today, something was different. Very different.

On the screen was a green icon. She didn't understand what it meant, so she dug out a manual.

She kept touching it. Why wasn't it working?

It took the autopilot, Chloe, Brooke called her, opening the book to realize that it was, well, a book. She couldn't remember the last time she read anything with paper and ink. She was so used to screens and brightness settings and eye strain and headaches.

"Welcome to your BNL captain's manual-- Hello, Manuel." She smiled, laughing at her own joke. Turning the pages, she found what she was looking for, that green symbol staring her in the face.

"What to do when your ERIC unit finds a plant- Brooke stopped, brows furrowing in confusion, and pulled her chair up to her computer terminal. "Computer, what is... a plant?"

(a living organism of the kind exemplified by trees, shrubs, herbs, grasses, ferns, and mosses, typically growing in a permanent site, absorbing water and inorganic substances through its roots, and synthesizing nutrients in its leaves by photosynthesis using the green pigment chlorophyll.) 

"...Computer, what is living?" 

(alive.) 

Surprised at the short response, she asked, "What's alive?"

"What is life?" Brooke questioned, sitting taller in her chair. What she expected was a short response. What she didn't expect was for what looked like hundreds of images and videos to appear on her screen.

A mini big bang of knowledge.

She swiped less desirable results off the screen, eventually coming to look at a singular image.

On her screen, a petite dancer pirouetted, moving along on her toes. She was beautiful, graceful, tall, and slender. "Computer, what is this?"

(ballet. a form of dance originating in France-)

"What's France?"

There was the sound of nothing, then the terminal began speaking in a totally different language. The language of this France? Brooke wondered.

"Hey! Hey! That's not what I wanted."

The dialect continued until Chloe stepped over to the terminal and fixed the settings. "Thanks."

"No problem, Captain." Her tone was simple, to the point-

precise-

That was what Brooke liked about her. Her ability to make things easy to understand, to help her when she didn't get things, to keep an eye on her. Chloe had, after all, been here much longer than Brooke had. She had probably been there since the beginning. That was Brooke's theory, anyway.

She had to admit that Chloe had kept her awake through some graveyard ships, even though the last asteroid field they faced had been millions of miles away.

She's heard of something through the giant electrified billboards down there where everyone else was. Something like companionship. Something called a match.

Something called love.

Maybe she and Chloe-

Brooke was brought out of her thoughts by the whir of the whir of the bridge's elevator, a sound she hadn't heard in what had to be ages. In its doorway was a deactivated ERIC unit on a cart and, hidden behind, a rusty figure.

Chloe went over to the cartbound figure, looking at it a moment before pulling out what appeared to be a stylus, which she inserted into a port glowing green on his chest.

His eyes flew open suddenly in a way that made Brooke gasp with something like fear and something like sympathy. It was spasming like he had been electrocuted, but it was active. And it had this "plant". But what did this mean for her? For her passengers?

She would have to find out. In the meantime, she had an ERIC unit to speak to.


End file.
